Thankful
by when the night grows old
Summary: Carole had tried to pry the oven mitts off Kurt's hands, tried to untie Kurt's tightly knotted apron, but Kurt wouldn't let up. He'd been up since six that morning, even though dinner wasn't until four that afternoon. Thanksgiving!Klaine fluff!


**A/N: sorry I haven't been updating like...at all. School caught up with me, as well as did my personal and extra-curricular life. But I'm done volleyball season (2nd place!), the play is next week (did I mention there's an adjudicator coming to evaluate our performance? Our drama department could possibly earn a grant!) and I just started physics (there is NOTHING good about this) but other than that, life is peachy! **

**I've written some random tumblr drabbles in the past few months, tho, as you may or may not know, I keep my tumblr (it's a personal/glee-fangirling-zomg blog) seperate from my BUT! I will be posting those little ficlets on here when I get the chance :)**

**so to welcome myself back to the wonderful world of fanfiction—tho I never really left—i'm writing a little bit of fluff for you today! It's not thanksgiving in Canada, but I know it's American thanksgiving! So, happy turkey day! And here's some turkey day inspired fluff!**

"Blaine, can you pass me the baster?" Kurt continued to stir the pot of honey glaze as he offhandedly waved his hand in the general direction of the utensil drawer. Blaine, sitting perched on a stool behind the island, slid off his seat to fetch the kitchen utensil quickly and quietly.

Kurt had been rather desolate all day. But nonetheless, it still made Blaine's heart beat a little bit faster to watch his boyfriend in his most natural and comfortable zone. Kurt had been diving in and out of the kitchen; stirring, chopping, basting, baking. He'd been trying to juggle the time he spent cooking and cleaning with the time he needed to shower and get ready all while trying to keep Blaine occupied and out of the dessert bowls. Kurt couldn't even be bothered to feel overwhelmed by all the food he'd made, he was in his personal element, a complete shell of concentration and focus to make absolute perfection. Thanksgiving was always a big deal to Kurt, (but really, what holiday _wasn't_?) and god forbid he let anyone else even get the _chance_ to ruin it for him.

Carole had tried to pry the oven mitts off Kurt's hands, tried to untie Kurt's tightly knotted apron, but Kurt wouldn't let up. He'd been up since six that morning, even though dinner wasn't until four that afternoon. Carole had even tried to enlist Blaine, the new go-to guy if you ever needed a messenger to Kurt, to get involved and help out. But Kurt was smarter than that. He quickly saw through their poorly executed plan and continued to keep everyone at a three-foot distance at all times, _including_ Blaine.

This year, it would appear the Hummel-Hudson's were going all out. After their first awkward and perfectly imperfect thanksgiving the year prior, Burt and Carole made the executive decision to have a large thanksgiving celebration. They'd invited a few of the glee clubbers and even held out a hand to Coach Sylvester. After all, no one deserved to be alone on the holidays.

Kurt absently reached out a hand to accept the baster that Blaine handed him, but instead he felt his hand come in contact with another warm hand, _Blaine's hand_. Their fingers twined like it was second nature, and though Kurt's eyes never left the turkey, he could feel Blaine's "I've got an plan" look staring at him, burning though his skull to imprint that picture in his brain forever.

Kurt sighed, beginning to protest almost immediately. "Blaine, I know that look, and please don't. The turkey isn't even cooked yet, and I don't have ti—"

"Dance with me." Blaine spoke simply. He took both of Kurt's hands now, locking their fingers securely just like they'd done so many times before, holding them tight to his chest, stroking his thumb absently against the smooth back of Kurt's hand. In that moment, Kurt had no choice but to turn his body and look at Blaine. And Kurt practically felt himself melting on the spot at the innocent and hopefully look lurking in Blaine's vibrant hazel eyes. Kurt felt his breath catch in his throat as he took in the way Blaine looked at him so calmly, but with a purpose. And in that moment, Kurt felt absolutely took weak to resist.

With a final halfhearted roll of his eyes, Kurt obliged and allowed Blaine to pull him close to his chest, their breathing quickly falling in synch much like it had many times before. Blaine wrapped a strong arm around Kurt's waist, supporting him as he positioned their other arms, fingers still slotted together perfectly.

For a moment, Kurt was lost in the feeling of being embraced so lovingly, it really was innocently intimate. Kurt tried to lock this memory, save it for forever. He tried to memorize the way Blaine's warm hand felt spread low on his back, the feeling of Blaine's weighted gaze, the feeling of Blaine's heartbeat thrumming trying to compete with his own, and the feeling of Blaine's hand melded together with his own like two corresponding puzzle pieces. Kurt had become particularly familiar with Blaine's hands in the eight months that they had been dating. From the instinctual hand holding, to the gentle brush of fingertips over the face and lips when words weren't quite enough, Kurt could safely say he was a connoisseur of anything and everything _Blaine._

As Blaine slowly began to sway them to and fro, gently and smoothly, Kurt felt a blush creep up his neck quickly and hotly as Blaine's unwavering gaze locked on Kurt's features. In a moment of weakness and slight panic, Kurt felt a mood-ruining comment bubbling in his throat.

"There's no music." Kurt blanched shakily. It was unexplainable and undeniable the effect that Blaine had on Kurt, and vice versa. Kurt often found himself or Blaine blurting things at all the wrong times, potentially ruining their perfect Kodak moments. But it wasn't out of nervousness, it wasn't out of shyness, and it definitely wasn't out of skepticism. It was the simple thought that this could be their forever, their evermore. The shy stolen kisses, the sweet, longing glances, the swift and natural hand holding, the slow and building love making...it all so simple and easy. It was overwhelming, unspoken of and completely doable for Kurt and Blaine, one would be crazy to suggest otherwise.

As Kurt continued to sway with Blaine, turkey almost completely forgotten, the corners of Blaine's mouth quirked up. "Who says we need music?" Blaine asked quietly, keeping their picture perfect moment in tact. Even though the rest of the house was filled with the obnoxiously stereotyped sounds of holiday gatherings—the football game, the cheering, the guests arriving and reuniting with one another, the usually small talk and chit chat—the kitchen seemed to allow all the other sounds to disappear or melt away. Or maybe it was just the heavy romantic atmosphere that Blaine had so flawlessly created, putting himself and Kurt into an imaginary bubble of solace.

Kurt exhaled slowly, leaning his head down to rest on Blaine's shoulder, burying his face in the familiar crook of Blaine's neck. It was the perfect little nook between his neck and shoulder, the perfect little place to shower with light, fleeting kisses, or the perfect place to suck deep purple bruises into the normally smooth and clear skin.

Without much warning or much of a clue, Blaine began humming a tune to a slow, smooth song, continuing to sway them and slowly spin them in circles. Kurt didn't recognize the song, but it didn't matter at this point. As he swayed, secure in Blaine's warm embrace, Kurt felt easily more relaxed than he had all day.

It was hard to determine if it was the gorgeous notes falling from Blaine's lips that were putting him at ease, or it may have been the warm and gentle embrace keeping him safe and warm, maybe it was the glass of red wine that Blaine had practically forced him to indulge in with him. But Kurt's best guess was Blaine's quiet, understanding, and above that, supportive attitude as he sat patiently all day, eyes practically begging to help Kurt flit around the kitchen or dunk his fingers into the dessert dishes.

As Blaine finished humming lightly, brushing his nose against Kurt's cheekbone, inhaling the sweet and salty scent of Kurt's moisturizers and the scent of the food that Kurt had been slaving over all day, he heard a soft contended sigh leave Kurt's lips.

"Better?" Blaine asked softly, keeping their bodies close in a gentle embrace as their swaying slowly stopped. With all the tension in Kurt's shoulders slowly disappearing, Blaine's arm still locked around Kurt's waist, and the turkey sitting up on the stove top waiting to be basted, Kurt had never felt more at peace.

"Much," Kurt mumbled into the conjunction of Blaine's neck and shoulder. Kurt lifted his head and leaned his forehead against Blaine's gently. Blaine couldn't help but feel a bit giddy at this, this was his favorite spot to be; forehead pressed against Kurt's, closer than anyone else had ever been, only able to see two glowing orbs of a dazzling blue staring back at him.

Blaine's face split into a gracious smile as Kurt leaned in to softly press their lips together in a gentle but thoughtful kiss. "Thank you," Kurt spoke after he parted their lips, Blaine only smiling in return.

Blaine loosened his hold on Kurt's waist, figuring he'd taken enough, however completely necessary, time away from Kurt's rigorous schedule. Kurt sighed once more, more disappointed than anything, before turning back to the turkey. It had cooled slightly, but not enough to worry Kurt too much. He'd needed a little break, however short it may have been.

Kurt then reached behind himself to pluck the baster from the counter top, slowing filling the plastic tube with the quickly cooling honey glaze. Kurt watched out of the corner of eye as Blaine watched him, hands tucked in his pockets, a question so obviously hanging on the edge of his tongue.

Kurt shifted his eyes to Blaine, trying to remain inconspicuous and failing miserably. "Can I—?" The question hung in the hair as Blaine reached out for the baster hesitantly.

Kurt peeled his eyes away from the turkey to allow his eyes to land on Blaine. Blaine with his ridiculous good looks, his hesitant and thoughtful charm and his outrageous ability to make Kurt turn to a soft puddle of turkey gravy with just one glance.

With a small smile sliding onto Kurt's lips, and small shake of his head in disbelief at himself, Kurt found himself handing off the baster to Blaine, with a surprising lack of reluctance.

The smile that spread on Blaine's lips was a wide and toothy grin, one that Kurt had had memorized for quite some time but never tired of seeing, especially when he was the one to put it there.

Blaine began to squirt the glaze over the turkey with a simplistic finesse that Kurt couldn't complain about. He watched Blaine continue empty out the pot of glaze, and in a moment of unrestrained bliss, Kurt found himself wrapping his arms around Blaine's middle section, hugging the boy's back close to his chest, feeling the easy intake and exhale of each breath. As their breathing synchronized, Kurt felt himself overcome with the feeling of sheer thankfulness. It wasn't thankfulness for having a helping hand in the kitchen, it wasn't for the great food that he was making, it wasn't even for all the guests safe arrivals in the other room. No, it was for the boy he had wrapped up in his arms right this moment.

Kurt rested his chin on Blaine's shoulder and strolled down memory lane as Blaine continued to baste the bird. He remembered the first time they met, on that damn staircase. He remembers being serenaded with 'Teenage Dream', he vaguely remembers helping Blaine serenade another boy—a memory washed away by kisses and cuddles from Blaine himself. He remembers their first kiss, how sweet and simple it was. He remembers their first I love you, the butterflies that had permanently settled in his stomach. He remembers their first spat as a couple, but he also remembers making up and apologizing like mature adults. He remembers the first time they made love; the slow, building feelings, and the soft, languid touches, two things that had them both writhing in ecstasy together.

As Kurt reminisced, he realized he wasn't thankful for the experiences themselves, he could've had those memories with anyone. But it was the _way_ the memories happened, _who_ they were with. It made them all that much more sentimental and memorable in the first place.

Almost on queue, Blaine rested the baster against the rim of the pot, grabbing for the washcloth to wipe off his hands. As he did so, Kurt pressed a firm kiss to the side of his neck. Kurt would never admit that he was on the brink of tears from simple reminiscing, it was like it was all just a dream, too good to be true.

"I'm so glad I have you," Kurt murmured softly, allowing his lips to brush against Blaine's skin as he spoke. "So thankful." Kurt spoke almost barely at all, the emotions hitting him a little harder than expected.

"Me too, always thankful for you." Blaine spoke equally as soft, the emotions lumping together in his throat.

The understood 'I love you's' went unspoken as Blaine turned in Kurt's embrace, and kissed him with a passion that was far too much for the current time and place, but neither boy could bring themselves to care too much. After all they had each other right in this moment, and they were grateful for it. Wrapped up in each others warm and comforting embrace, they couldn't be harmed or even bothered to worry about anything else, even the turkey.

**A/N: tah dah! So, I'm still writing my ghost!blaine fic, and I'm about to start writing a romeo & juliet!klaine fic. Fklasdjfklasdjlfs. But yeah, sorry for being gone so long! Hopefully more updates will come soon!**


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